Zoom Lens
by Auster
Summary: The eccentrically French, but brilliant photographer Yuugi finds his perfect model in a shy, unassuming student. But the real challenge is not persuading Atemu to pose… YxA/YY AU. A three-shot fic.
1. Part One: Mon Cheri

AN: Anyone remember 'Zoom-Lens' from the Alphabet? Well, this is the expanded version behind it. It wasn't that high up in the voting poll, but it was one of my favourites and I _really_ wanted to write it so its here before its more wanted brethren.

Yes, believe it or not dear readers I have, at last, made these guys English. Well, more European if you want to get technical. I've been wanting to do this for ages and I figured that if people could make these guys American, well, I could sure as hell put them where I wanted to, too. Atemu, also, isn't as shy as I had intended him to be (like he was in the drabble) he kind of grew a backbone without my consent, and I like him better this way. I'm pretty sure the nickname 'Até' was created by the brilliant _Ocean_, thus I have decided it should be canon and am using it.

Summery: The eccentrically French, but brilliant photographer Yuugi finds his perfect model in a shy, unassuming student. But the real challenge is not persuading Atemu to pose… YxA/YY AU. Romance. A three-shot fic.

**Zoom-Lens**

**AKA 'Aperture'**

Part One

'_Mon Cheri'_

Spring this year was particularly vibrant. Considering the national, unspoken agreement of the country's inhabitants that English seasons consisted of three winters and a spring, this came as a widely welcomed surprise. The sun seemed bent on outdoing its last dismal attempt at a summer, and pleasant heat had prevailed over heavy April rains for weeks now. Mossy lawns had exploded into a carpet of buttercups and daisies, dandelions determined to make the most of the weather had turned the air into a dry soup of feathery seeds.

Atemu sighed heavily, letting his head fall back to rest against the old blossom tree. The bark was cool and dry to the touch; the little grooves and nooks caught strands of his dark hair and tugged lightly when he moved his head. Closing his eyes against the bright sunlight filtering between the vivid pink flowers and the odd off-green leaf, Atemu let the constant murmur of voices meld with the drone of traffic in the near-distance. A light breeze lifted the pages of the open book on his lap; a little yellow at the edges from the hours it spent stuffed in his messenger bag. The words had turned to meaningless black squiggles some time ago, melding into a snakes and ladders game of pointless repetition that his over-relaxed mind could make no sense of. These were the kinds of days he dreamed of, where the gentle afternoons melded with the movements of a self-satisfied cat into long evenings with dusky sunsets.

_Click!_

"Well hello, _mon cheri_."

Jerked out of his half-doze, and disorientated by the dazzling flash that followed the second _click_, Atemu blinked heavily up at the loud intruder, who was stood just out of the shade he had been enjoying a moment ago.

"Wai – what?"

"No, no, don't move, you'll ruin the light. The moment. The flowers."

The voice was luminous. Light and filled with energy, it carried the soft rumble that was the sensual accent of a Frenchman, the vowels tinted lightly with a few years of English living. Regular clicking issued from the expensive looking camera obscuring most of the stranger's face; a halo of dark ebony and gold hair was about all he could see clearly.

"Stop that!" Atemu closed his book with a snap and pushed it aside, he stood quickly to stare incredulously at the stranger, "Who do you think you are?"

A business card was promptly presented to him; Atemu fumbled slightly to take the unexpected offering. The stranger had finally paused in his manic photo taking, after a glance at the strange man's smile; Atemu read the beautifully embellished card, his eyebrows rising at the strange name.

_Gabriel 'Yuugi' Renoir: Professional Photographer_

A photographer? He sneered while his head was titled so the newcomer couldn't see. The idiot probably considered himself an artist. The obscurity of the name threw him off: two of them were clearly French, but the middle had to have been an 'artistic' improvement meant to groom the artist's ego. Atemu looked up from the business card to meet the curved glass of the camera lens, now much closer to his face.

"Mr. Renoir – "

"Yuugi."

Atemu lifted an eyebrow, the stranger's insistence on informality clashing with the blunt manner in which he corrected Atemu. He opened his mouth to speak, but was suddenly interrupted.

"Enough introductions!" Yuugi broke the moment of silence with a flourish of his arms, "Sit back down, _mon cheri_, and for the sake of the Lord be careful not to disturb the petals."

Petals? Atemu looked down sharply to see if any of the tree's blossoms had stuck to his thin burgundy jumper, the movement caused a small pink blur to float down in front of his eyes. Scowling, he quickly ruffled his dark hair to dislodge the few that had tangled in with the thick locks, he hadn't even realised they had been falling.

Yuugi's expressive eyes followed Atemu's hand movements forlornly, the colour of those eyes, Atemu noted, was quite extraordinary. A blue so deep they turned purple in the light.

"Ah, _mon cheri_. You ruined the petals."

"Please stop calling me that."

"What else am I to call you when you have yet to grant me the knowledge of your name?"

"It's Atemu."

"Ah. 'Tem, 'Temu, Até?"

"_Atemu_, please." He insisted.

Yuugi looked him up and down, "No. That will not do. How about Até then? No, something much sweeter is in order. How about a flower? A bittersweet little flower… Little Rose? Ah hah, perfect. It fits beautifully!"

Atemu felt embarrassed heat infuse his cheeks, forcing down the colour only by concentrating, he asked, "Dare I ask why?"

Yuugi lifted his hand to toy with a strand of deep gold hair, curling it round thin, elegant fingers. A playful look danced on the curve of his smooth lips.

"It appears you just did," with another flourish, Yuugi let go of his hair and placed the tips of his fingers below the deliciously defined curve of Atemu's chin. Their skin did not touch, but came close enough for Atemu to feel the heat of the photographer's skin. A ghost touch that skilfully manipulated Atemu into lifting his chin up as well as a forceful grip would have done.

"Your eyes, _mon cheri_, are as brilliant as the bud of the young rose. True life, true intensity, all furled up and hidden from the world, waiting for their time. And yet, there are thorns, dark corners to them that threaten to hurt the unwary."

Atemu couldn't quite find words to reply to that, the heat in his cheeks warmed past the point of being able to hide the resulting red tint, even under the light dusky colour of his skin. Then Yuugi grinned and pulled his hand away.

"Also, flowers seem to like you, in that girly kind of happy way."

Snapped out of his daze by the grinning little imp and the implications that had just been made, Atemu scowled again.

Yuugi quickly raised the camera and snapped another photograph with an obnoxious _flash_.

Feeling a nerve below his eye twitch, Atemu asked, "Are we done?"

Yuugi's features melted into a puzzled look, "Done?"

"With this," Atemu made a neutral sort of hand gesture towards the camera, "Whatever it was you were just doing."

"_I_ was creating art. And you, Little Rose – "

"Atemu."

" – are a fine piece of it. Come, come, we must return to my studio, inspiration can wait for no man!"

Atemu felt his cheeks heat up again when Yuugi took his arm in a deceptively firm grip, that angelic smile imploring him with a child-like pleasure to follow. Atemu's eyebrows furrowed in another scowl. He tugged his arm away and stepped back.

"Look, I don't know who you are, or what you're doing on campus, but I'm not following you anywhere."

He stooped to pick up his discarded book and bag, but as his fingers closed around the cover of his advanced forensics textbook, it was whisked away as if some genie had clicked his fingers and made it vanish in a poof of purple lamp-smoke. Atemu lifted his gaze to the only one who could be responsible. Yuugi was flicking through the pages with a half-interested, half-disgusted look.

"The _things_ my medium is used for." He said, looking down at a full colour photograph of a badly decomposed woman.

"Those _things_ help people find murderers," Atemu said, holding out his hand to take the book back, "Now, if you don't mind, I have lectures to attend."

Snapping the book shut, Yuugi moved it out of his reach, holding it behind his back with the teasing air of an older child hiding another child's sweets. Instead, the Frenchman took hold of Atemu's outstretched hand, and pulled him up to his full height. Scowling up at the full three inches of extra height Yuugi had on him, Atemu tried to extricate his fingers from the other's grip.

"This is harassment, Mr. Renoir."

"Are you really so adamant to refuse this chance?"

Atemu froze; suddenly finding himself pinned between the trunk of the old tree and the warm body of the photographer. Yuugi's halo of gold hair caught the light and reflected it like water, his eccentric manner changed to smooth self-control, coercing with an enthralling magnetic pull. Wide-eyed, and feeling much like a trapped rabbit, Atemu's breathing picked up. Yuugi smiled triumphantly.

"Men are all so easy to decipher. It is like you write the maps of your minds upon your foreheads."

Then, Yuugi spoke in a much softer voice, like the rippling of tigers fur in the deep green of the rainforest.

"Follow me, _mon cheri_. I will not hurt you."

* * *

Yuugi's studio turned out to be around the corner from the quiet part of campus Atemu enjoyed, which didn't exactly give him enough time to rethink the exact logics of what he was doing. Yuugi seemed to have this uncanny ability of restricting all rational thought in favour of frivolous impulses, chatting all the way down the busy main road about this, that, and everything else. The photographer's mind jumped from subject to subject without any apparent links, discussing everything with the same amount of boundless enthusiasm.

Atemu found himself wondering if the strange man was taking something.

One thing was for certain, however, Gabriel ("_Yuugi_, call me Yuugi") Renoir was not short of cash. The studio was less a work place, more an extravagant mess. Situated in the middle of town, it had once been a lavish penthouse, but was now cluttered from ceiling to floor with portraits, cityscapes, empty frames, old film, and leaning-tower-of-Pisa stacks of paper wobbling on the coffee table.

Atemu wondered exactly how old Yuugi was to have this sort of money. He didn't look a day over twenty-one.

"I hope you like them?" Yuugi asked in his excellent accented English, appearing at Atemu's right shoulder as he gazed up at the sheer number of photographs worked like the brickwork itself into the fabric of the studio rooms. Some framed in ornate mock gold, some in thin modern chrome, and some simply stuck on with Blu-Tack, the sheer volume of variety was enormous.

"Yes," Atemu heard himself say, "Are they all yours?"

"These are," Yuugi said, "The ones in the other room are all from people I take inspiration from."

There was a deceptively pleasant pause.

"What am I here for?" Atemu asked suddenly, speaking quietly in a conscious desire to retain the atmosphere of serenity that had settled over them.

"Because I see something in you that I cannot, at present, capture. I am hoping, given a little time and a little more of your patience, that we will discover how to."

"And what is 'it'?"

"As of yet, neither of our tongues have a word for it."

Atemu waited a moment for Yuugi to elaborate. When he heard no sound from behind his right shoulder, he turned and frowned confusedly. Yuugi was already halfway across the room, apparently finished with the subject. How did he move so quietly?

"Mr. Renoir?"

"Yuugi," Yuugi said, insistent.

"Yuugi," Atemu copied, a little exasperated, "You still didn't, exactly, explain what it is I'm doing here."

"Até, are you a little dim?"

Atemu felt that little nerve below his eye twinge at the sound of the infuriating pet name, "I didn't come here to be insulted. And it's Atemu."

"Nonsense. And most people can work out when they are the subject of some interest."

Atemu's eyebrows arched sharply, his voice rose incredulously when he asked, "You want me to model?"

Yuugi gave him a side-long look, "No, I want your sparkling personality and open mindedness."

Feeling his cheeks flush with heat at the jibe, Atemu dropped his gaze to an old pizza box in the corner.

"I haven't even agreed to this."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yuugi nod sagely.

"True," the photographer said, "but nor have we discussed pay."

"Huh?" Atemu forgot the previous sarcastic comment in the face of this new focus. The thought of him actually being paid for something like modelling had never even crossed his mind; it had seemed like a ridiculous profession for Barbie dolls and pretty boys until now.

Yuugi rolled his eyes, "Are you always this slow, Até? You can do it for free if you want, but what with you being a student, you would appreciate the income, yes?"

The frayed shoulder strap of his ancient messenger bag tickled the edges of his gripping fingers with suddenly pathetic little threads of cloth and nylon. His stomach reminded him that a meal that didn't consist of ten pence noodles and supermarket-value beans would be much appreciated.

Dubiously he asked, "And what would I have to _do_, exactly?"

"Oh, it's really very simple. Come, sit down and I'll explain."

Yuugi waved him over after clearing some space on a fashionable cream couch by sweeping an arm across the cluttered cushions. Magazines and loose photos flopped to the carpeted floor ungracefully, and predominantly unnoticed by Yuugi, who settled himself onto one side of the couch like a cat with one knee bent under him.

Attempting to retain a little more grace, Atemu picked his way over to the couch and sat firmly on the opposite side, keeping his bag close to his feet.

With a smile like light and gold, Yuugi gestured to the wall opposite a row of vast windows, his sweeping arm encompassing all the images fixed to the pale paint.

"These are all my favourites. Do you notice anything about them?"

It took Atemu a moment to take them all in, then another to realise what was notable. Every style, from black and white to abstract, from sublime to rural landscape, each image was a striking capture of a perfect instant. But something unbalanced that variety.

"There are no people. At least, not close up."

Yuugi nodded again, "This is not unintentional. I have tried many times to find enough in a single person to keep my lens interested long enough for the films to be developed. None of the ones I took came out good enough."

"And you expect _me_ to be good enough?"

"I do not expect anything. I wait for what will come, to come. Nothing more."

Atemu was silent; he continued to scan the wall for anything strange or disquieting he should probably know about. Yuugi seemed so very genuine, but he had never posed for a camera before when it wasn't being held up by his mother or grandfather and accompanied by a sickly sweet "_smile!_"

"Forgive me, I still haven't told you what you, specifically, will be doing. It requires nothing more than a willingness to pout, smile, and, occasionally, look ever so slightly deranged.

"The work will easily fit around whenever you are available and feel like it, as I'll either be here, or somewhere in town probably being accused of harassment for taking photos again. I'll give you my mobile number."

Atemu licked his lips nervously, "And I won't be asked to do anything… degrading?"

"Good Lord, no. Absolutely everything is with your full consent."

"And I will be paid?"

"Before the sessions even begin, if you want."

"You know I'll be hopeless at this, right?"

Yuugi's smile softened, "We shall see."

Atemu wondered what (and more importantly why) he was agreeing to when he spoke his consent.

"Right!" Yuugi clapped his hands delightedly, "Now that's all sorted, can we finally start working?"

"Sure," Atemu said with a shrug of forced casualness.

"Excellent. Now, how to do this…" the photographer trailed off thoughtfully, the electric energy in his amethyst eyes retreating within.

Suddenly Yuugi beamed, in a single smooth movement he stood up and was rummaging through the mess that apparently had been some kind of glass cabinet before it became part of the chaos that was the studio. Muttered French drifted to his ears from Yuugi's person, unmistakable curses and oaths.

Atemu felt a small smile tug the corners of his lips, an almost affectionate exasperation lifting his mood.

"I had a camera here somewhere. I just saw it!"

Straightening up, Yuugi faced the rest of the room with a half-pout, scanning the mess. His searching eyes found a long landscape photograph of the Amazon and fixed on it. Bemused, Atemu's gaze was drawn to the other's chest, where rested the same large black and silver camera Yuugi had used to ambush him on campus.

"Um, Yuugi – "

"Quiet, Little Rose, I'm having a brain wave," he paused with the air of one on the verge of a 'eureka' moment. Atemu waited. Then the Frenchman smiled.

"Oh, that's perfect! Now all we need is a boat and a river." Yuugi turned sharply round to begin the search for a map, the heavy camera swung on its leather strap and bounced off his chest. Confused, he looked down.

"Oh, there's the camera. Honestly, Até, you could have _said _something."

Retort on the tip of his tongue, Atemu opened his mouth. And then closed it again. For that one moment, the light of the low-slung sun caught Yuugi's outline, and he glowed. The breath in Atemu's lungs shivered.

Then the Frenchman clicked his tongue in frustration, and bent to shuffle some papers aside to make room for the found map, and the sun was swallowed by a long cloud. Atemu blinked hard and tore his gaze away, curling his hands into fists, the fingernails cutting harshly into his palms, resisting the urge to clench his teeth.

* * *

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Would you believe me if I told you a photo shoot?"

Atemu laughed openly at his roommate's blatant disbelief, swinging his old bag round to land on the stained kitchen table. Ryou was neither gullible enough to fall for pranks, nor insightful enough to realise when something strange was real. At the moment, though, Atemu didn't blame him for his scepticism.

"Yeah, and I spent my morning reorganising the states of America into alphabetical order depending on the number of traffic cones found in each state. My arse, Atemu."

"No, I'm serious, Ryou. I really did," Atemu looked the other dead in the eye when the disbelief refused to lift, and pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket, "Here, I have his number. Call if you don't believe me."

Doubtfully, Ryou took the phone and read the new number and name on display. It could easily still be a hoax, but Atemu had never been one to be so elaborate. His humour was short and to the point.

Ryou handed the phone back to him without ringing the number, choosing instead to look at him closely as he flopped down onto a kitchen chair. It was the first time Atemu had been this sociable in weeks, and there was something in his manner that seemed different. Happy. Ryou smiled.

"Can you believe he's even going to pay me for this? Whether the photographs come out or not, I'm easily making a couple of hundred quid each meeting," Atemu laughed, "I sound like a call girl."

"He must be rich then," Ryou heard the kettle boil behind him, he turned to finish the cup of tea he had been making when Atemu bounded into the house, "Want one?"

Atemu shook his head at the offer, "No thanks. And yeah, he is. Definitely rich enough to pull off eccentric without it being madness, anyway. He's French, too, but I don't know how long he's been here. And he has these huge eyes just like light shining through amethysts."

Ryou laughed lightly; straining the teabag and flicking it into the dustbin, "Slow down there, Romeo."

Atemu felt embarrassed heat crawl over his skin. To distract himself, his fingers found the buckles on his bag and began to fasten and unfasten them. Ryou winced slightly when he saw his mistake.

"When are you meeting him again, then?"

"I, um, don't really know. I think it'll be a couple of days or something. He said he'd call me," Atemu half-mumbled, opening his bag and pulling out his textbooks.

Ryou sipped gingerly from the hot mug of tea, curiosity nipping at the back of his mind, "So then, in a word, what was he like?"

After long moments of deliberation, Atemu could only find one word that seemed to encompass the overall impression that was Yuugi.

"Perky."

Ryou laughed amiably and asked Atemu how on earth anyone had even managed to get him to contemplate something as outgoing as modelling in such a short space of time. Atemu wished he knew. Gently, he steered Ryou away from the topic of Yuugi, pulling out his nearly full pad of paper and an old biro to begin the day's homework.

Lifting the cover of his dog-eared advanced forensics; he leafed through the pages to find the section he had been attempting to read just a few hours ago. Ryou was saying something about his boyfriend, Bakura, being the usual insensitive jackass he always was, but his words had become part of the background. Trapped between the picture of the decomposing woman and a block of text describing a graph, were a small handful of half-crushed pink blossom petals. They sat conspicuously soft against the page.

Atemu felt an uncomfortable lump climb up from his stomach, as if he were going to be sick.

-

AN: Yes, Yuugi is mad. Yes, Atemu is special. And yes, I love them both (especially this off-his-rocker Yuugi) with an unholy passion.

You must love them too. It is Law.

To be honest, I'm anxious to know how this will be received by everyone, since it's a little different than usual. So if you could drop me a review, I'd love you all forever. This Three-shot is all but finished. I only have a couple of scenes to write up from the third part and get the whole thing beta'd. I decided to update this instead of another oneshot I was planning for today because it isn't quite finished, so look out for the oneshot next week! And the remaining parts should be up in the following weeks after that! And all while this is happening, King will begin construction once again!

Review Please!


	2. Part Two: Café et Chocolat

**AN:** Life really likes f-cking me over, it does. This and a oneshot should have been up by now. This should have been the third part I was updating today. Gah! Well to start off with, Beta-dear was stupidly busy so couldn't do anything, then I got into a car crash with my bf, and then FFdotNet just wasn't loading any documents. Did anyone else get that last one, too?

Anyway, you are not interested in my life, you are interested in fanfiction. And thus, at last, I give you something.

By the way: Thank you for all the reviews! They made me very happy to know I wasn't just writing weird stuff that only I liked.

Oh, and also, my French isn't brilliant, but everything you see in French in this story has been looked up and, to the best of my abiltiy, researched. I _think_ everything is correct, but don't yell at me if I slip up. Please? I shall put up translations in the next chapter if people want them.

**Zoom-Lens**

**AKA 'Aperture'**

Part Two

_'Café et Chocolat'_

"Easy now," Yuugi warned, holding tightly onto Atemu's bicep to steady him onto the narrow boat, "Can't have you falling in."

The April day was just as stunning as it had been nearly two weeks ago, when Yuugi had first ambushed Atemu on campus. They had met up numerous times in the intervening weeks, but it was only now that Yuugi had been able to acquire a boat he deemed suitable. A few heavy, nighttime showers had kept the vegetation alive and virulent. Yuugi had found the river on the map, winding just out of town through a greenbelt of farms and parks. Dragonflies of neon blue and green hovered in and around the rushes flanking the slow river; midges and flies added their buzzing to the soundtrack of the day, their little bites irritating Atemu's skin. Yuugi was like the nesting sparrows: lively and full of sound.

Atemu wobbled a moment on the decking, before steadying himself. Yuugi let go of his arm slowly to be sure Atemu had found his balance.

"Right, Little Rose, I was thinking we begin with a 'Lady of Shalott' type look," Yuugi said, "Since the water is so clear today."

"A what type look?" Atemu asked, sitting down gingerly and trying to recall his GCSE English, "You mean that woman who randomly decided to die on a boat?"

Yuugi cringed slightly at the molestation of the literary canon, "Close enough."

"I'm not a woman."

"Never said you were," Yuugi held up his hands in a pacifying gesture, "I said a look _like_ that."

"…Alright. What do I have to do?"

Yuugi beamed.

"Well, it is quite simple. First we find the camera."

Atemu raised his eyebrows in disbelief as Yuugi began rummaging in the couple of small shoulder bags they had brought with them, once again seeming completely unaware that he had the camera hanging around his neck. Yuugi seemed to have taken his daily dose of 'Oblivious', at least.

"Yuugi."

"Até please, do not interrupt me when I am – "

Yuugi's sentence was stopped short when Atemu moved forward, grabbed the camera and lifted it up before his eyes with a quietly smug little smile.

"Ah, there it is. _Merci_."

Yuugi took the camera back, fiddling with the clasps to open the protective cover that encased it as Atemu settled himself back down at the bottom of the boat. There were no seats, and Yuugi had removed the metal rings that normally held the oars, apparently the boat needed to look as unadorned as possible. Atemu was just glad it was tethered to the shore.

"Now, I need you to take your shirt off."

"What?!" Atemu shouted, aghast at the nonchalant way Yuugi had spoken.

Yuugi looked up from adjusting various settings and lenses, an innocently confused expression on his face.

"What is wrong?"

"Oh, only the perverted way in which you wish to expose me!"

Yuugi looked at him steadily, "This is art, not porn. What do you think I am going to do with a few pictures of a man without a shirt? Send it to Canal Boys Weekly? They could create a special article on seducing an English idiot in three seconds; and as an added bonus I could mention how the sensual buzzing sounds of river flies enhances orgasm. It would fly off the shelves. I would be famous."

Atemu burned in anger and embarrassment. Yuugi was making fun of him, and yet if the blunt sarcasm of Yuugi's voice meant anything, Atemu had just badly offended him. He glared at a knot of wood to prevent himself from snapping back.

"Forgive me, Little Rose, I do not mean to tease," Yuugi's voice had turned warm again, and apologetic, "Your concern is a valid one. But you must trust me. Have I ever done anything to give you cause for such apprehension? Most men of your age have no qualms with displaying their chests."

_Most men of my age do not need to constantly fight with themselves_. Atemu suppressed the thought as soon as it came, looking back up from his sitting place to meet Yuugi's eyes, thankful for the photographer's sunny demeanour. He had basically just called Yuugi a deceitful pervert. He had probably deserved that snide remark.

"Sorry," was all he said.

Yuugi, ever the genius at reading people, just smiled. He returned to fixing a particularly complex looking zoom lens to the camera.

"Will you indulge me, then? I will understand if you refuse."

Atemu tottered a moment on the edge of indecision. Then he lifted his fingers and began unbuttoning his shirt. Yuugi's eyes gleamed in excitement and gratitude.

Five minutes later he found himself laying on the bottom of the wooden boat, fingertips dipped in the water, chest bare in the glorious sunlight, eyes half closed, lips lightly parted, and the clicking sound of a camera's shutter above him joining in with the merry birdsong. The erotic position felt wrong, but Yuugi's abilities of persuasion were uncanny, and Atemu had found himself in this position before he even thought about what it may look like.

"Beautiful," Yuugi murmured quietly, leaning back a little more to capture more of the lush reeds in the picture.

Atemu heard him and felt a light heat flush his cheeks, his eyes flittered nervously away from Yuugi, trying to persuade himself that Yuugi was talking about the scenery, not him.

* * *

The night was as beautiful as the day. A silver sickle moon rose gradually through the heavens, clusters of stars like glitter decorated the sky, visible despite the thin groups of clouds travelling through the night. They lay with their heads propped on one side of the narrow boat, and their knees hooked over the other, occasionally mistaking a plane for a constellation or a rustle of the wind for the other's whisper.

"How long have you lived here, Yuugi?" Atemu asked.

"Why? Is my speech incorrect? Do I stand out?" Yuugi's concern was partially sarcastic.

_Oh, you stand out alright_, Atemu thought warmly, knowing that Yuugi knew he was odd and loved it, "No, you speak perfectly. But I can tell the accent. Do you come from Paris?"

Yuugi chuckled, "Every Frenchman you meet does not automatically come from Paris, Little Rose. I come from a little village in Brittany, quite far west of Paris. I spent the first eighteen years of my life there."

Atemu waited for Yuugi to continue, the photographer seemed to have a habit of answering _around_ his questions, "So, you've been here…?" Atemu trailed off, realising he didn't know Yuugi's age.

"Ah," Yuugi smiled, "Forgive me, I was side-tracked again. I have been here for nearly four years, making myself notorious for my apparent 'issues of privacy'," Yuugi looked a little bemused as he quoted what must have been a policeman's voice. Atemu smiled at Yuugi's hopeless inability to understand the personal space bubble.

"So… you're twenty-two?"

Yuugi raised an eyebrow, "That was an extremely round-about way of asking my age, if that's what all that was."

Atemu shook his head, "No, I'm curious about all of it. I want to know all –" he cut himself off, heat infusing his cheeks at the embarrassingly sappy comment he had been about to make. Could he not control himself for one moment around Yuugi?

Yuugi clearly knew what Atemu had been about to say, but answered as if he hadn't, saving Atemu the embarrassment, "Well, alright. To answer the first question; no, I am not twenty-two. I am twenty-five. To answer the next question as to what I was doing in the in-between years, I was in Japan."

"Japan? What were you doing there?"

Yuugi shrugged, "I wanted to see an entirely different world. My Grandfather Motou is Japanese, so I lived with him for three years while I attended a university over there. It was the kind of culture shock I needed to open my eyes. My art has felt much more free and natural since I started travelling."

Atemu nodded in comprehension, rocking the boat gently when he idly swung his foot, "That explains the name."

Yuugi laughed lightly, "Ah yes, 'Yuugi' was a nickname they came up with in university. They could never pronounce 'Gabriel' very well, and they dare not even attempt 'Renoir'. Then one day my girlfriend at the time called me 'Game' because I, in her own words, was irritatingly playful and constantly challenging, and other words I wont repeat. So, 'Yuugi' I became, and it has stuck ever since."

Atemu's heart panged sharply at the mention of a female ex, though he quickly and ruthlessly crushed the emotion, hiding it behind a carefully crafted mask.

He paused to think, "That's a long time away from home."

"Yes, it is."

An owl hooted nearby, they had been chatting for so long Atemu had forgotten what day it was.

"I will probably be going back soon, though."

Atemu tilted his head towards Yuugi, a frown on his face, "What?"

"My photographs have been growing more and more famous in Paris," he said this without the slightest amount of ego, "One of the greatest photographers on earth, one of the people that made me who I am, has asked me to work with him on a project."

"Oh," Atemu felt a cold chill from the night air, "That sounds wonderful."

"I have dreamt of this since I was a boy," Yuugi said quickly, "Just like you have always wanted to help the victims of humanity's worst members."

Atemu was startled, turning his head to stare at Yuugi, how on earth did he…? He swallowed and turned away again. They were quiet for a while; the silver moon catching the crimson-tinted ends of Atemu's wild black hair and turning them a dark ruby.

"It is getting cold," Yuugi said at last, "We should be going home."

"Yeah," Atemu agreed, but it was a while before they made the effort to move.

* * *

Atemu looked up at the large logo of the quaint, stylish little coffee shop Yuugi had told him to meet at. It was nearly a half hour walk across town, and the weather had taken a turn for the worse in the past couple of days. Thick clouds that would burst into sudden ten-minute downpours had rolled over the blue sky, causing the temperature to drop sharply. Atemu hoped the meeting would be worthwhile, and not another stupid get together for the sake of it, he had work to do.

Lifting his hands out of the deep pockets of his black coat, he stepped forward and pushed the polished glass door open by the artistically tarnished bronze bar handle running across it's length. His red scarf fluttered a little in the sudden warm air of the heaters as he stepped inside, a little tinkling bell above the door announced his arrival.

The little bell had barely stopped ringing when a golden voice caught his attention.

"Até, _bonjour_!"

There could be no doubting whom the voice belonged to. Atemu felt a reluctant smile tug on the corners of his lips, even as he sighed in exasperation. The little café was rectangular in shape, with darkly varnished pine for the floor and counter, the plaster was painted an off cream, and large panoramic cityscapes hung on the walls. Opposite the long counter, where a young woman was busy with an espresso machine, Atemu found Yuugi lounging on a low red chair made of homely leather, a low table before him.

It should have been a sin how inviting the photographer looked right then, sitting there as if he owned the place, with eyes like ripe plums in starlight.

Atemu ignored the sight and made his way between the handful of other patrons to where Yuugi was, sitting down gingerly in the chair opposite him. The old leather threatened to swallow him if he tried to relax into it.

"Drinks?" Yuugi asked. As if by magic, the waitress from behind the counter appeared by their table with a notepad in hand.

Atemu paused, this place looked expensive.

"Do not worry," his companion laughed lightly as if reading Atemu's mind, "I am paying."

"Alright," Atemu agreed to Yuugi's offer with a half-smile, "Just an ordinary coffee with milk, please."

Yuugi raised an eyebrow, "An 'ordinary coffee'? When was the last time you came to a coffee shop, Little Rose?" He shook his head with a smile and turned to the woman, "Alright then, a plain coffee with milk if you have one. And for myself, the biggest mocha you have and the largest double chocolate muffin you sell, if you please."

The woman took their orders and whisked off again. Atemu's cheeks heated as he realised just how much this little meeting looked like a date.

Yuugi talked for the entire time they waited for their orders, and though Atemu listened, he was not entirely sure exactly what he had just been talked too about when the woman returned nearly ten minutes later. Yuugi's mouth jumped from subject to subject as fast as his brain, and it was proving difficult to keep up when the photographer was on a roll, as his accent often slipped accidentally into much thicker pronunciations.

"So then," Yuugi continued at a slower pace, the woman's interruption seeming to have calmed down his excitable thought patterns, "Where were you born?"

Atemu was taken aback by the sudden question, a confused frown appearing on his features, "Excuse me?"

"Ah, forgive me, too forward again," Yuugi leant forward slightly and tugged the little porcelain bowl of sugar sachets towards himself: "Start where you will, but tell me about yourself."

"But why are you asking to begin with?" Atemu eyed him suspiciously, watching as Yuugi tore open the top of a thin sachet of brown sugar and poured it into his mocha.

"Well, it seems to me that you know quite a lot about my person," Yuugi said, reaching for two more brown sugars, "Yet I know a dismal amount about yourself, and this feels a little unfair."

"I, well, I," Atemu wasn't entirely sure how to react to this sudden interest, to stall for time, he took a sip of his drink, holding back a wince as the too-hot liquid burnt his mouth, "I was born in Nottingham," he finished lamely.

Atemu's eyes followed as Yuugi emptied a fourth little sachet of sugar into his coffee, not quite able to grasp how anyone could like anything so sweet. The photographer then proceeded to give the drink a little whisk with the spoon, dipping his finger into the foam when he was done, and licking it off with a thoughtful look.

"I know of that city, where is it?"

"The Midlands," Atemu replied a little vaguely by way of answer, "My family moved a lot, though. We spent a few years in Edinburgh before I came to uni."

Yuugi nodded slowly, he picked up the large double chocolate muffin the waitress had brought him and picked out one of the chocolate chips, nibbling on it.

"I like Edinburgh, very striking," Yuugi commented lightly, "What about your name? It is not very, well, English."

"No," Atemu shook his head, "But my grandparents came from south west Asia, somewhere. I never found out where, they died before I was born. But I think maybe Egypt. My parents wanted to name me something that reflected my roots."

"A fantastic notion, if I may say so!" Yuugi congratulated his parents with a saintly nod and another chocolate chip, "That at least reveals the culprits behind that delicious skin of yours, a light mix of cream and cocoa beans. You are sure you don't want a cake or anything, Little Rose?"

Atemu was busy staring fixedly at his cup to avoid the embarrassingly blunt yet addictively genuine quality of Yuugi's compliments.

"No, thanks."

Yuugi shrugged, "Suit yourself," he said around a large mouthful of cake.

Atemu sunk a little more comfortably into the man-eating chair, the sound of the gentle chatter from the other patrons, the occasional clink of porcelain, and the quiet background music coming from small black speakers set in the top of the wall causing him to relax into the calm environment. Company considered, it was a pleasant break from the hectic workload that had characterised his last two weeks. Atemu turned his gaze to the window, watching the outside world pass by contentedly.

"Little Rose?"

Atemu turned his head back to his companion to find that Yuugi had been staring at him, looking up at him in a way that made Atemu take sudden notice of how long and thick Yuugi's eyelashes were, like rich frames for his perfect eyes.

Atemu shook himself internally to break himself off from such sentimental thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"Have you nothing more to tell me?"

"About myself?"

"Well, I am certainly not interested in anyone else right now, am I?" Yuugi asked as if it were obvious.

Atemu felt a little attack of nerves, his mind running far too easily with the possible meanings of that question.

"I can't think of anything else that would interest you," Atemu said after a moment, "At least, nothing that you don't already know."

"Oh, I doubt that," Yuugi said in a low, languid tone that made Atemu's skin tingle. Suddenly, the photographer smiled, "Come now, Até, what about likes and dislikes? Foods, pets, colours?"

Why was Yuugi being so persistent? He was only a temporary model for a little project. What on earth could he have that would interest someone like Yuugi, who had been everywhere and done everything?

"I've never had any pets. Though… though I've always wanted a black cat. I like Indian food and red wines, but I'm afraid I don't have much of a sweet tooth," Atemu decided to indulge Yuugi, "Though I like chocolate, on occasion."

"Ah, there we differ greatly," Yuugi said with great bravado, "I – "

"Adore sweet things. I noticed," Atemu gave a small smile, keeping his eyes carefully on the sugar pot and away from the temptation that was Yuugi Renoir.

Yuugi's eyes grew warm, his open expression spoke joy, "I see I am easier to read than I thought."

"I… wouldn't say that," Atemu hesitated to speak his mind, "You baffle me most of the time."

Yuugi was quiet for a moment, a thoughtful look mingling with the warmth in his eyes. Lifting the white cup, he took a long gulp of the mocha; creamy light brown foam covered his upper lip when he pulled the cup away. Atemu was about to mention it, but Yuugi was already running his tongue across his lip to clean it up. The moisture left the rouge-red lips glistening in the soft light, a cupid's bow of the sweetest temptation. Atemu's lips parted in suddenly conscious desire. A part of his mind abruptly wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

"So, my little rose, do indulge me," Yuugi's voice filtered like a dream into Atemu's distracted mind, "Have you ever been in love?"

Atemu finally found enough words to make a sentence, ignoring the question for the sake of his sanity, "Is there a, um, point to these questions?"

Yuugi ran his finger up the smooth curve of the handle on his cup, "You fascinate me. Are you offended by them?"

"No, no. I just, I don't under-, they're just quite personal, and I don't see what it has to do with the project you hired me for."

Yuugi shook his head with an exasperated little smile and sigh, "Hired is such an ugly word for what we are doing, Até."

Atemu frowned, "What _are_ we doing?"

"Creating something beautiful."

"That's very cliché, you know."

Yuugi gave him a secretive little smile, "Perhaps."

There was another quiet moment. Atemu turned his half-empty cup slowly, watching the brown liquid swirl.

"You haven't told me anything about how the photos have come out, and it's been more than long enough for them to be developed. What're you doing with them?"

Yuugi raised an eyebrow, "Do not be so suspicious, they are safe and private. I will do nothing with them without your consent."

Atemu chewed his bottom lip, "Then what is wrong with them?"

Yuugi tore off another piece of muffin, chewing it slowly, as if nostalgic.

"Do you recall the first time you came to my studio?" Yuugi asked.

"Yes," Atemu nodded once, a frown darkening his eyes.

"And do you remember when I told you how many times I have failed to keep my camera interested in a single person long enough for the films to be developed?"

Atemu nodded again, the memory returning with images of a golden afternoon and a pair of bejewelled eyes under the shade of the blossom tree.

"The films have long since been developed, and I am still here. Do not fear, your worth is immeasurable."

Atemu sat there feeling confused and warm. He was sure Yuugi must have muddled that sentence up slightly, like it had been a bad translation from whichever language he thought in.

Blinking heavily, Atemu downed the rest of his cooled drink and set the cup down firmly on the table.

"Look, I should really be going. I have to be in class soon. Thank you for the coffee, and," Atemu paused to force the words out, "And your company."

Yuugi's large eyes followed Atemu's movements as he pulled his coat back on, "You must go? So soon?"

"Yeah. Lectures," Atemu replied by way of slightly awkward explanation, needing to avoid direct eye contact with Yuugi lest he be hypnotised like a charmed snake, "I'm sorry."

Yuugi looked like he was going to stand up too when Atemu stood, but he stayed where he was and smiled invitingly, "Very well. Can you drop by the studio tomorrow afternoon?"

Atemu swallowed, "Um, sure. I'll see you then."

"_Au revoir_, Até."

The outside air felt distinctly cold compared to the cosy little café he had left behind. Hunching his shoulders against the chilled wind, Atemu walked quickly in the rough direction of home, ignoring the little memory reel in the back of his mind that kept playing Yuugi's voice back to him in the privacy of his imagination.

* * *

The sight of the penthouse studio made his chest hurt. The mess of classical and modern art was gone, replaced by regimented twenty-four by twenty-four cardboard boxes. The brickwork of the walls seemed weak without the photographs to reinforce them, bleached of colour and life, the plaster was dank and unattractive with the lack of personality Yuugi usually infused the rooms with. Brown parcel tape blended into the rough fabric of the moving boxes. It felt as if the tape had sealed Yuugi's eccentric character away, ancient Chinese seals confining the wrong evil spirit.

Atemu clenched his fists. It had been nearly a week since the river night.

"Até?" Yuugi appeared from behind a tower of boxes. Atemu found he couldn't quite look at him.

"So you really are leaving?"

Yuugi closed his eyes before opening them slowly, "You knew I would."

"I only knew you were thinking about it," he snapped the words out.

"Atemu, this is something I've wanted to do my whole life. I was always going to jump for it. Do not insult yourself by saying you thought otherwise."

The words were meant reassuringly, but they still stung. His mind entertained the thought of apologising, but dismissed it before the words were fully formed. Yuugi would not accept it.

He lifted his gaze to watch the photographer glide around the brown cubes effortlessly, a flame out of place on a frozen moon. For the first time, the silence was uncomfortable.

Unbidden, unexpected, a sudden desire to hear the truth aloud engulfed him, threatened to consume him soul and all. Atemu took a half step forward.

"I…" his voice stuck.

But Yuugi had already turned, a large cardboard box filling his arms. A curious, half-expectant look settled on his open face. His eyes were warm, and, for once, patient. Atemu wrestled with the lump in his throat.

"I, um…" the words wouldn't find themselves.

Yuugi let a small sigh escape through his nose, "I could use some help with those boxes," he nodded at a small pile by the sofa, "If you don't mind?"

Atemu shook his head, eagerly lunging for the new topic, "Of course not."

The moving people were arriving in less than an hour to take Yuugi's stuff away ahead of him. Yuugi himself was spending the night at a hotel and leaving in the early morning, a non-stop flight directly to Paris.

"You have my phone number and email if you need anything," Yuugi was saying, "Or if you just want to talk. I don't want you to find yourself another corner to crawl back into and pretend to be the resident hermit again."

Atemu laughed despite himself. He desperately wanted to say something that would in some way mean something to Yuugi. He licked his lips nervously and opened his mouth.

The doorbell rang with an intrusively irritating tune.

"Ah, that'll be the moving company," Yuugi said, making no move to answer the door. Atemu fought back a curse.

"Well, goodbye then," Atemu held out his hand awkwardly. Even to his own ears, the goodbye had sounded forced, "I hope you find what it was you couldn't capture in those pictures."

Yuugi let out a little laugh that was more like a breath, "Oh, I'm not looking for that anymore."

The handshake was even more awkward, and with Atemu still trying to figure out Yuugi's last statement, he was unprepared for the next.

"But you know," Yuugi's face was suddenly very close, a warm hand burning Atemu's shoulder, the other's amethyst eyes glowed with liquid light, "You are always welcome to visit."

Atemu smiled, a vat of snakes and worms and butterflies in his stomach making him feel sick.

The doorbell rang again.

Atemu's eyes went wide when suddenly Yuugi placed his hands on his cheeks, tilting his head up so that their eyes were locked. The back of Atemu's throat tightened as a brief flicker of some unnameable raw emotion crossed Yuugi's face. But it was gone too fast, and he began to doubt his eyes.

Yuugi's perfect lips curved elegantly upwards, "Smile for me. Do not make me leave without seeing you smile, _mon cheri_."

Knowing, now, what that phrase meant only served to make this harder. But despite the itching at the corners of his eyes, Atemu forced a small smile.

"Always one for the subtlest of gestures," Yuugi said in quiet admiration, he laughed a little, "I would not be surprised if you told me I did not know you at all."

Confusion kept Atemu silent when Yuugi pulled away and clapped his hands in a show of a brisk return to character, "Well, can't keep them waiting, can we? Would you mind helping?"

Atemu nodded his assent. The moment for anything else had been long lost.

* * *

AN: Again, thank you for your patience, everyone, with my random and sporadic updates. I hope this chapter was as good as the last. Oneshot shall be up next week!

**Review Please!**


	3. Part Three: La Ville de l’Amour

**AN:**I'm not entirely happy with this, but when am I ever, ey? Turns out I'm just as much the sap for confession scenes as ever; seriously, they are such an Achilles Heel of mine. Anyway, I'm so sorry this took so long. But enjoy!

Translations of the French are at the bottom. And to anyone who is fluent in the language, please forgive my minimal skills. It probably sounds very stiff and not-quite-right to people who actually know what they're doing. I have researched what I have put here, but of course there are always errors in a language you aren't fluent in. Forgive me, if there is anything awkwardly glaring, don't hesitate to correct me.

Summery: The eccentrically French, but brilliant photographer Yuugi finds his perfect model in a shy, unassuming student. But the real challenge is not persuading Atemu to pose… YxA/YY AU. Romance. A two/three-shot fic.

**Zoom-Lens**

**AKA 'Aperture'**

Part Three

_'La Ville de l'Amour'_

The first thing Atemu noticed when he sat at his desk that night was that it was raining. It was a soft rain, the kind of misty drizzle that you barely notice until beads of water begin to drip down the back of your neck. It pitter-pattered on the windowpane, creating beads of water that reflected the orange light of the streetlamps outside. Atemu found himself watching the little jewels, half-amber half-water, chasing each other down the glass, his coursework forgotten. He sighed.

A light knock on his door made Atemu jump, his little box of pens tumbling off the side of his desk when his hand hit it. Cursing lowly, Atemu dove for them.

"Come in," he grumbled, looking to see if any had rolled under the chair.

The door cracked open, and Ryou's head appeared in the gap.

"You're up late," Atemu commented.

"You're _in_ late," Ryou replied, sliding into the bedroom.

Pens gathered, Atemu stood up and placed them back on his desk, turning his chair to face his friend. "Sorry, did I wake everyone?"

Ryou shook his head, "I was still awake, Mai's still out, and you know Jou can sleep through natural disasters. But, anyway, where were you? You never go on nights out."

"I didn't, I'm not exactly dressed for one either."

Ryou's mouth parted softly and, after a small pause, he asked, "What happened?"

Atemu turned back to the window, "Nothing."

"Moron, of course something happened."

"Go back to bed, Ryou."

"Not until you tell me what happened. It was that photographer, wasn't it? What did he do?" Ryou's voice grew faster in worry as his safety conscious brain flittered through numerous possibilities.

In his rush to defend Yuugi's name, Atemu told him, "He left."

Ryou blinked in confusion, his eyes showing that this was one possibility he hadn't considered, "What?"

Atemu closed his eyes to concentrate on controlling his voice, "He left. Gone back to France on work. He won't be coming back, I don't think."

"And how do you know that? He seemed to have quite the home here, I'm sure he'll come back."

"He sold the apartment. All his belongings are being sent to his new place in Paris. He's not coming back. Not soon, anyway."

"Oh," Ryou bit his lip softly, now he saw the problem. Crossing the room, he perched himself on the edge of Atemu's meticulously made bed. Atemu opened his eyes to watch him with a slight glare, Ryou cast around for something to say, "What's his name? You never told me."

"Didn't you read it on my phone?"

"I've slept since then, thank you."

"Yuugi," Atemu said, trying to ignore the soft tone his voice automatically adopted when his tongue curled around the name.

Ryou tilted his head, "Odd name, for a Frenchman."

"It's a nickname. And we're hardly ones to talk about strange names, Ryou."

Ryou raised his hands with a smile, "Alright, you have a point," he paused, "Tell me about him."

Atemu stared at him incredulously, "You what?"

Ryou nodded, "Go on, you've hardly said anything about him since you came back after first meeting him, I want to know who it is that finally got the infamously brilliant, but brooding social retard Atemu Shaheen twisting his knickers into a knot."

Atemu blinked, "Excuse me?"

Ryou waved a hand, "Doesn't matter, just answer the question."

Atemu shook his head with a scowl, "No. Ryou, can you please just go to bed, I'm not in the mood to talk."

Ryou stood up in exasperation, "Atemu, listen. This Yuugi, whoever he is, clearly isn't someone you can throw away and never think of again. For Christ's sake, you were already half in love with the guy from the first meeting. And now? Well –"

"I am not in lo-…" Atemu interrupted sharply, and then found he couldn't deny it when a large lump lodged in his throat at the thought.

Ryou continued, half shouting in disbelief, "And you aren't even going to talk to him again?"

"I never said that. I… have his phone numbers and email."

Ryou stopped, "Really?"

"You don't need to sound so surprised," Atemu muttered, "I'm not completely useless. And he… he invited me to go visit him sometime."

Ryou beamed, "Oh Atemu, that's perfect."

"But I'm not going to."

Ryou was silent for a moment, his brain trying to comprehend Atemu's idiocy, "What? Why?"

"What would be the point?"

Ryou threw his hands up in incredulity, "_What would be the point?_ And you're supposed to be a first class student! The point is that he's clearly interested enough in you to invite you over, which means you take advantage of it. You go there, and you return his interest!"

Atemu rolled his eyes at his friend's optimism, Yuugi may have been very touchy-feely, but Atemu got the impression he was like that with everyone, "Yuugi's not interested in me, not in that way. I was his model, he's just being polite to friends."

Ryou placed a hand over his face and dragged it down, "I give up, I'm too tired for this. We'll continue this conversation in the morning when perhaps some sleep will have made less of a moron out of you."

Atemu glared at the door after Ryou had left. Then turned back to his coursework, picked up his pen, and attempted to begin.

Ten minutes later he found himself staring at the rain again. Yuugi was out there, somewhere, probably asleep in his cosy hotel bed, without a worry or care in the world. The little water droplets twinkled amber lights at him, he could almost hear the engine on the plane whirring its way towards them.

Let it come, he decided. Then maybe, without Yuugi's silly distractions, he could finally get back to passing his degree.

* * *

Atemu jumped half-out of his skin when his phone suddenly began playing _Hey Jude_ loudly down his ear. Atemu cursed, he really needed to stop leaving the damn thing on his bedside table. Holding the page of his book with a finger, he rolled over his pillows and flipped the phone open, pressing it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"_Bonjour, mon cheri!_"

Atemu's heart skipped a beat when he heard the energetic morning greeting. It had been nearly two weeks since he had heard Yuugi's voice, and the familiarity of it brought back a flood of repressed thoughts that froze Atemu's voice half way to his mouth.

Finally he managed out a, "Yuugi?"

"Well, who else would it be?" There was a pause, "Have you been seeing another Frenchman?"

Atemu couldn't help the little laugh at Yuugi's mock outrage. He leaned back onto his mattress, curling around one of the pillows, the quilt resting about his waist.

"No, no one since you."

"_That_ I am glad to hear. Ah, my dear Até, you do not call. What is the matter?"

Atemu winced and decided to tell a partial truth, "I'm sorry, I worried about how busy you'd be, I didn't know if you'd appreciate it what with moving in and all the new work."

Yuugi scoffed, "Nonsense! You think too much, as always. Well, how have you been? I want to hear about everything."

Atemu smiled, "Everything?"

"Yes, from your classes to when you last cut your nails."

"Stalker much?"

"And proud. Now indulge me, Little Rose."

Closing his eyes, Atemu indulged, "Well, we broke up for Easter yesterday, so I've spent most of the morning in bed. And all I've done is work recently. To be honest I've been… pretty bored."

"Life not as fun without a mad scatterbrained idiot to liven it up?" The smile in Yuugi's voice carried through his speech, Atemu could tell he was pleased.

"I wouldn't call you an idiot."

"But you _would_ call me mad and scatterbrained?"

"Well, I try to not to lie."

"Pah, I love you too, Darling."

The phrase was meant as teasing, but Atemu felt an uncomfortable heat prickle his skin. He sometimes wondered whether Yuugi was genuinely innocent and playing, or whether knew exactly what he did with his words.

Atemu let out a tiny laugh, "Hm, yeah, I'm sure."

"You know," Yuugi began with a contemplative tone of voice after a moments pause, "there is a very easy way for you to alleviate that boredom."

Atemu stifled a lethargic yawn, "And that would be?"

"You could come visit me, perhaps?"

Atemu stiffened, not expecting the sudden social invitation, "I – Yuugi, I don't think I can. I have uni work-"

"It is Easter. What kind of work could you possibly have that is so pressing that you need to start it at the beginning of the holidays?"

"But your work–"

"Does not keep me as busy as you seem to think it does, especially at these preliminary stages."

"Will I be able to afford it? I mean there's flights and hotels and–"

"I will pay for the flights, and you can stay at my place." Yuugi stopped, and then said in a slightly hurt tone, "Honestly, Até, you sound like you really want to avoid me."

"No!" Atemu hurried out in a tone much more desperate than he had intended, wincing slightly in embarrassment, he said, "It isn't that, I'm just… nervous."

"Nervous? Até, you will be well taken care of, do not worry. What is there to be nervous about?"

"I don't want to get in the way of anything, I suppose." Alongside other reasons.

Yuugi's voice was soft and warm when he spoke, curling around him like silken fabrics, "You would never get in the way."

"I…" Atemu chewed his lip. He wanted to visit Yuugi, he really did, but… "Well, how can I say no now? If you really insist."

"Oh, I do."

He sighed, "Alright, I'll come over."

"Excellent! I'll look at flights for you, when are you able to come over?"

"Um," Atemu stammered, not prepared to begin the planning right away, "Anytime really. Our Easter break lasts about three weeks; I've got nothing planned."

Yuugi paused, "You aren't going to go home and visit your family?"

"No," Atemu quickly cast around for an excuse, and a lie, "I saw them the other week, and I can't be bothered with all the moving."

"Ah, very well. Is next weekend good? I think I will be able to get you a nice window seat in business class with British Airways, my uncle is a high up with them. Maybe even first class if I can manage it. Does time of day matter to you?"

Yuugi really didn't like wasting time. Atemu spluttered, "First class with British Airways? Yuugi, I can't afford _that_, I could probably afford economy with Easyjet and that's about it."

"Easyjet does not have an economy class, Até, it is all bad." Yuugi said in a bewildered tone.

"I know, but if it did, I couldn't afford it. I'm that poor."

"You forget I am paying." Was Yuugi's returning comment, as if he were offering to pay for a take-away or a loaf of bread.

Atemu was adamant, "I can't ask you to pay for that. Really, Yuugi, I'm fine with a rusty tin can with wings as long as it'll get me to y – as long as it gets me there."

Yuugi laughed, "Ah, Little Rose, as if I would consent to that. No, no, enough arguing, you will get nothing but the best I can manage."

Atemu chewed his lip again in embarrassment at the comment. He wanted to argue, but he knew Yuugi wasn't going to back down.

"Good," he could hear Yuugi's smile in his voice, having taken Atemu's silence as agreement, "I'll have to email you with the details I find tonight, brunch break is about over."

Atemu cocked an eyebrow, "Brunch break?"

"Yes, it is like lunch, but earlier. I skipped breakfast. And, ah, here comes the slave driver."

"Slave driver? Yuugi, where are you?" Atemu's lips quirked at the image of Yuugi trapped and twitchy in an office, the photographer would never survive in such a restricting place.

"_Monsieur Malet_," Yuugi intoned in an overly posh voice, before laughing at himself, "He is the man I came to work with. I am at his studio office now. He is a brilliant man, but he drives me a little mental. Fortunately, he cannot understand a word of English, so he has no idea when I am… what is the term?"

Atemu smiled, "Affectionately mocking him?"

Yuugi laughed again, and the sound filled Atemu with warmth, "Yes, perfect, Até. Ah, I wish I had more time to talk with you, my rose."

Atemu had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from reprimanding Yuugi for making him sound like a girl with that nickname. God, he was hopeless.

But he couldn't help the slight sadness that crept into his voice, "Me too. I… Well, I'll see you soon, so it can't be that bad."

"You will be the light at the end of my tunnel of work," Yuugi said brightly, "and I really have to go. Goodbye, Até!"

"Bye, Yuugi."

Atemu slid the phone closed as his hand fell limply onto the mattress. He closed his eyes with an annoyed sigh; he was far too young for this kind of shit.

* * *

"Atemu, the taxi is outside. Hurry… What are you doing?"

Atemu swung around, pants in hand, and flinched when he saw Ryou in the doorway to his room.

"Unpacking?" He said with a half-shrug.

Ryou frowned, "Why?"

Atemu pulled open his top draw to drop the underwear back where it belonged, "Because I have to."

"Is the flight cancelled?"

Atemu returned to his open travel case and began gathering up pairs of socks, "Not exactly."

"Isn't Yuugi expecting you?"

Ryou saw Atemu flinch again, "I'll call him in the morning."

Crossing the room in three quick strides, Ryou took hold of the case lid and threw it down. With a heavy click the locks snapped in place. Atemu, who had only had enough time to snatch his fingers out of the way, stared incredulously.

"What was that for?"

"You are going to Paris."

"What? No, I'm staying here, where I belong."

Ryou kept his voice flat in the face of Atemu's idiotic stubbornness, "You are going to catch that flight, and you are going to go to Paris. Tonight."

"And who are you to decide what I do?"

"Your best friend, who clearly knows what's best for you."

Atemu flailed his hands and said, "It's hopeless! I mean, what am I even going to gain from this?"

Ryou met his gaze with a level stare, "What have you got to lose?"

Atemu's shoulders sagged, "Everything."

"Then you're delusional. You will lose him if you don't chase him. If you never respond to his advances, do you really think he won't move on? Do you think he'll pine away forever for you while you persuade yourself that everything will be fine? No. He won't wait forever. So you will go to Paris, you will not act like an moron, and you will tell Yuugi that you love him."

Atemu flinched at hearing his emotions so bluntly stated, "I can't, it's stupid, I'd never manage it."

"I already ended this discussion."

Ryou opened Atemu's case again and quickly re-filled it with the handful of clothing essentials that Atemu had removed. Then, ignoring Atemu's protests, he grabbed the handle and began dragging the heavy thing downstairs.

"Ryou, wait, please. Listen to me."

Opening the front door with one hand, Ryou was relieved to see the taxi still sat outside, its engine growling impatiently. He nodded to the surly looking driver and opened the large back door, stopping to look at Atemu, who was close behind.

Ryou grinned, "Your carriage awaits, and is a little impatient. So hurry up, Cinderella, before the clock strikes gate closing time at the airport."

Atemu threw him a light glare and walked forward to stand beside the door, "Ryou, I don't know. This whole thing feels so… Hollywood. Life doesn't usually work out as well as it does in films."

"But life is full of these kinds of chances. If you don't take this chance now, I won't be the one listening to you regret it for the rest of your life. Get in."

It only took a moment for Atemu to decide. Picking up his case, he pushed it onto one of the backseats, and slid in beside it. He turned back to Ryou as he closed the door, talking through the partially open window, "You'd better be right."

Ryou smiled, "Moron, I'm always right."

He watched and waved as the taxi drove off into the late afternoon, his smile slipping a little, "At least, I hope so."

* * *

"And this, _Monsieur Shaheen_, is your room. I hope you have a pleasant stay with us and if you need anything, you need only ask. Our manager is a devilishly handsome young man who will _gladly_ work to appease your _every whim_."

Yuugi mock-bowed with much flourish and false bravado. Atemu's sides were hurting from laughing. Yuugi had kept up the hotel worker act all the time he was showing Atemu around the new apartment, and he was brilliant at it, knowing all the quirks and tricks that made the whole act hilarious.

Yuugi straightened up with a pleased smile, finally dropping the act; Atemu's rich laughter was infectious.

Atemu was still grinning like an idiot when Yuugi moved closer to him, placing his hands on Atemu's biceps and saying, "Forgive me if I was pushing you into coming, Até, I… I am glad you are here."

Atemu's grin melted into an embarrassed and pleased smile, he dropped his gaze to the skirting board when he replied, "Yeah… me too."

Yuugi gave his arms a squeeze and lingered a little longer than Atemu thought was really necessary before he stepped aside to help unpack the small suitcase Atemu had brought with him.

Atemu had only arrived in France an hour or so ago, after a dull and nerve-wracking flight that hadn't helped in forming any sort of resolution to tell Yuugi the truth. He had spent at least ten minutes looking lost in the arrivals area, not entirely sure where to go or what to expect.

He hadn't, after all, expected Yuugi to be here to pick him up in the middle of the night. He had to have work tomorrow and already be asleep. So, after fumbling his way over to where he was almost sure the luggage from his flight would soon be distributed on those awkward conveyor belts, he had pulled out his mobile phone, sifted through all the text messages from networks he didn't even belong to welcoming him to the country, in search of Yuugi's number. He would have to get a taxi to Yuugi's new place. He had the address, but too late had he realised that his extremely limited knowledge of French would probably end up with him being driven to a red light district. Not, exactly, his idea of fun.

He would have to ask Yuugi to call a taxi firm for him, get them to send one over to pick him up. Hell, maybe Yuugi could even pull strings and get him an English-speaking driver, Yuugi seemed to be well connected like that if his first class flight meant anything. Atemu had never seen so much luxury in his life; rich people really did have time on their hands.

Dialling Yuugi's number, Atemu placed the phone to his ear and listened impatiently as it connected and began ringing. He heard someone's ring tone behind him, but didn't recognise the tune, so ignored it.

Then he heard the seductively accented voice through both the phone and on the warm breath ghosting his other ear.

"_Bonjour_."

"_Gah!_" Atemu skittered forward with a loud exclamation of surprise, his phone flew out of his hand and he had to fumble desperately to catch it before it hit the floor. He span around, breathing heavily as his heart pounded, and recognised the person now laughing in front of him.

"Yuugi!" he hissed, embarrassed and irritated as people turned to look at him, "Don't _do_ that!"

"_Désolé, je suis vraiment désolé_," Yuugi laughed, trying to control himself, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Little Rose. Oh, I wish I could have taken pictures of that reaction."

Atemu scowled, but his irritation was fast being replaced by delight at seeing Yuugi again, stood there in the flesh as lively as ever. A breath of self-exasperation escaped him, "Yuugi, what are you doing here?"

Yuugi calmed himself at last, "I have the night off. I can't have you running around Paris alone, God knows where you'd end up."

Atemu fought the urge to pout, "No, that's not what I meant, well it was, but how did you get in here? Isn't this part of the terminal just for the arrivals?"

Yuugi grinned, tilted his weight confidently onto his right hip, Atemu saw the flash of an ID card swinging off his jeans hook by some coloured string, "Technically yes, but I have my connections. Come now, do not pretend you are not happy to see me."

Atemu's shoulders sagged with a sigh. He smiled, "If for the only reason that it prevents me from dredging up my high school French, then yes. I am happy to see you."

Yuugi laughed, throwing his arm around Atemu's shoulders and directing him towards the now appearing luggage, Atemu stiffened a little at the unexpected contact even as Yuugi said, "Well, at least I'm useful for something."

That, and he was a quick little bugger, Atemu thought as he came back to the present. Yuugi had already unpacked his whole suitcase without Atemu having to do much of anything, storing everything neatly and correctly in the wardrobe and chest-of-draws. He felt he probably should have been embarrassed and quite annoyed to have someone else handling his clothes, but Yuugi was such an innocently inoffensive person that Atemu couldn't be angry, even if he probably should be. It was all done very neatly too, which seemed odd considering the natural mess Yuugi lived in.

"I know how you are with these things," Yuugi said with a smile when he saw Atemu give the thoroughness of this unexpected neatness a questioning glance, "orderly and organised."

Atemu half opened his mouth before he found he didn't have a reply for such an unexpected observation. Instead he said, "It's a lovely town house, Yuugi, thank you for letting me stay."

Yuugi rolled his eyes, "Oh stop being so polite, Até, you are not in England now." He stepped away from the empty case and put his hand on Atemu's shoulder, steering him back downstairs into the kitchen, "I think, Little Rose, that this is your first time in France, correct? Then we should celebrate! How about we sit down with some good wine? I have some excellent _Merlot_ from Bordeaux, or some of Burgundy's _Pinot noir_ if you want to start with the really, really good stuff. And if you want to start soft, there's some lovely Tuscan _Chianti_ somewhere."

"All reds?"

Yuugi paused to look at him, "You told me you loved red."

"I do," Atemu felt the cogs in his brain slip into place, "You bought them for me?"

Looking like he was trying to fight down a mischievous grin, Yuugi smiled, "I assumed you probably have not had much chance to taste the real stuff, am I correct?"

"Well – "

"Then it is all for you. A red wine for my red rose."

Atemu fought down the heat in his cheeks, rolling his eyes, "Half the time I wonder if you're a man or a walking cliché."

Yuugi laughed, "Why cannot I be both?"

"Because it's a physical impossibility," Atemu replied, taking a seat at the dining table, pushing aside a pile of magazines and choosing one of the newspapers as a coaster, "Alright then, ply me with some of this Pinot noir you sound so half in love with."

Yuugi's eyes gleamed.

* * *

A bottle of, as Yuugi promised, excellent wine, and even more excellent company, later, Atemu wondered if this had been such a good idea. His head was pleasantly fuzzy, his tongue thick with rich taste, and in the low light of the lamps, Yuugi had never looked so beautiful. Atemu watched as he returned with a newly opened bottle of _Merlot_, and wondered if he, too, now had that little purple dye smudge on his bottom lip, like it had been dabbed on with a finger and was asking to be licked off.

Their conversation had turned slowly deep.

"So my rose, I know you are not Christian, but religion or not, why aren't you visiting your family this holiday?" Atemu looked up sharply, and Yuugi smiled softly. "Do not think you fooled me."

"Why aren't you staying with yours?"

Yuugi waved his hand dismissively, "I will see them on the days that matter, though I feel little for religion myself aside from the beauty it can build in this physical world with stone and mortar. Please, I do not mean to push, you can avoid the topic if you wish."

But, surprisingly, Atemu didn't really want to avoid anything right now. He looked down again at the fresh glass of wine, "My family and I… we love each other, but… we don't get along." Yuugi tilted his head inquisitively. Alcohol had loosened his tongue. "I, well, my… my parents do not agree with my, um, lifestyle choice."

Yuugi titled his head in confusion, "Lifestyle choice?"

Atemu twisted his fingers together nervously, the skin becoming damp and clammy with fear, "Yeah."

"Little Rose, you misunderstand me. I do not quite understand your terminology. I am fluent in English, but I do not know everything. What about your life do they not agree with?"

Atemu took a deep breath to try and calm himself, "Oh, sorry. Um, well, what I mean to say is that they don't agree with my… with my…" saying the word out loud to another person was proving to be one of the hardest things he had ever done, "Homosexuality."

Yuugi's eyes widened in comprehension, Atemu looked away quickly and spoke before Yuugi had a chance to respond, "When people call it a 'lifestyle choice', they mean that they believe it is something people choose to be. My parents think I just need to grow up and grow out of it. They don't understand," he whispered the last part almost too quietly to hear, "I barely understand it myself."

There was a short pause that turned Atemu's nerves into a swarm of terrified butterflies. Then Yuugi's pleasantly cool hand closed around his fidgeting fingers, and Atemu was forced to lift his gaze from his lap. His stomach clenched at the sight of Yuugi's eyes, where no shadows resided, and his acceptance as clear to see as the blue of the sky.

"I was just so scared of you lea–," Atemu checked himself sharply, "Of you not being comfortable with it, um, me."

"Oh, Até, you really are a little dim," Yuugi laughed, teasing him good-naturedly, "I have known since we first met."

His eyes widened, "You what?"

"Remember? 'It is like you write the maps of your minds upon your foreheads', I believe I said. Only you, Até, even though you do not seem to realise it, also wear your heart on your wrist."

Atemu smiled, "You mean my sleeve?"

"Ah, yes, that one. I am improving with your English sayings, yes?"

Atemu declined to comment.

"And for the 'lifestyle choice', I have heard of that theory, just not under that name. And, with all due respect to you, your parents are idiots."

"Perhaps."

"No 'perhaps', there is no 'perhaps' about it. This is not something we choose, and it is not something we have to be ashamed of. Anyone who believes otherwise is blind and bigoted."

Atemu stared, "So then you are…?"

"Very gay, yes, I am astonished you did not notice. I do not exactly hide it."

"I'm not the most observant person on the planet," Atemu said in way of excuse.

Yuugi gave him a side-long little smile, "No, really?" Then he put on a more serious look, "You are new to this, yes?"

Atemu shrugged, "I suppose. I suppose I always knew and never really… never really thought about it until recently. Though, to be honest, its more likely I wasn't thinking about it on purpose. When I went to my Mother for advise on this, I didn't receive advice. That was a few years ago now. So, essentially, I stopped wondering about what it could be."

Those cool fingers tightened on his hands, the soft skin smooth on his knuckles, "You must not be afraid."

Atemu looked up and felt himself smile, "I know. I don't think I am anymore."

Yuugi met his eyes for a long time before he said very heavily, "_Je t'aime._"

Atemu blinked slowly, the alcohol making his senses a little fuzzy, "Hmm, 'scuse me?"

Smiling again, strangely this time, Yuugi shook his head, "But now is not the time. Come, I must be getting you to bed. It is the least I can do after getting you drunk."

Atemu glared at him lightly but let Yuugi help him up, "I'm not drunk."

"Not quite, but enough that you'll be wanting some water and painkillers when you wake up."

He would have protested, but the way the room had begun to swim in the edges of his vision gave him the suspicion that Yuugi was probably right.

* * *

Opening his eyes the next morning, Atemu was greeted with the caressing touch of a gentle breeze, heavy with the scent of a city in spring and the park over the road. He blinked a few times to clear the sleepy blur from his eyes and focus on the strange room he found himself in. A moment later, the confusion was cleared. He was in Paris. His head hurt and his mouth felt dry and disgusting, but despite this, he smiled. It was hard to believe he was actually here, but the bed was soft and warm and very real. He ran his fingers over the little golden flowers embroidered into the white sheets, thinking of last night, thinking of Yuugi.

The window was open a crack, Yuugi must have opened it before he left last night to help Atemu keep a clear head when he woke. There was a glass of water and, thankfully, a box of paracetamol next to it on the bedside table. Atemu hoisted himself up, checked the clock as he downed the painkillers and water. Eleven o'clock. He hadn't slept in this late for a while. Rubbing his temples, he pushed himself out of bed and stumbled over to a chair where he found yesterday's clothes, he pulled the jeans on but wrinkled his nose at the shirt and opted for a new one instead.

The house was quiet, and for some reason, even before he found the note, Atemu didn't think Yuugi was in. The quietness just didn't seem right. It was resting on top of the kitchen table, Atemu was surprised he'd even seen it amongst all the mess of paper and books. Yuugi's handwriting was an elaborate style, all messy curves and eccentric curls, it took him a moment to decipher it all.

_Mon cheri, I hope this message finds you in a coherent state of mind. I am meeting Marlet in the park opposite the house; he enjoys the lake there. He wished to discuss something, but I doubt it will take long. There are spare keys in the hall, if I am not back, come find me._

_Affectueusement, Yuugi_

Atemu re-read the last part a few times, "Come find me?" Did Yuugi actually want him meeting Marlet? He didn't relish the idea of wondering alone around a foreign place. At least the park hadn't looked too big last night when passing it, he could still see the houses on the other side when upstairs. It was probably more likely Yuugi just wanted to show him around, maybe get some lunch before going into the city proper. His stomach rumbled uncertainly at the idea of food, he was hungry, yes, but his stomach was still churning a little from the slight hangover. Atemu decided on another glass of water and some rigorous teeth-brushing before going anywhere.

Searching for the glasses, Atemu tried to think back on the previous night. He could remember the majority of it quite clearly, and remembering the last conversation they had, had the dual effect of embarrassed heat flooding his skin, and making him fight down a grin. Life suddenly felt so much more colourful again, his chest wasn't so tight.

Finally finding the glasses, he pulled one down and turned toward the kitchen sink. The different water was probably going to play havoc with his system; he'd have to buy some bottled stuff in the city today. Yuugi had been drinking too; absently Atemu wondered how he felt. Most likely he was fine, despite the strange, no doubt alcohol-induced, looks and slipping into French like that at the end. Atemu could barely remember it, but he was sure it had sounded familiar.

_Je t'aime._

Atemu froze. The memory had flittered suddenly vivid into his mind. He may know a grand total of about thirty French words, and he could perhaps coble together a couple of sentences when pressed, but he was not an idiot. And even an idiot knew 'I love you' in French when they heard it.

The glass overflowed under the rushing tap.

* * *

_He was probably drunk_, Atemu thought to himself as he crossed the road to the park, _he drank just as much wine as I did._ His feet felt heavy, and his heart wouldn't stop thumping like a large stone, his mind racing with rationality. He would find Yuugi and they would have a normal, fun day, and if Yuugi brought it up they could talk about it, but Atemu didn't think Yuugi would bring it up. His heart thudded. He hoped he didn't bring it up. But then again, Atemu himself should probably bring it up, shouldn't he? Wasn't that what he was here for? Was he ready for that?

Would he ever be?

Surprisingly, it didn't take long to find them. Atemu soon saw them walking slowly along a sand-gravel path that flanked the small lake. Yuugi looked lost in thought, his eyes gazing at the water only half-focused. The older man was a tall, proud figure, with hair the colour of storm clouds, he was busy lighting a cigarette with a match. Approaching them, Atemu heard him speak in a slow, deep rumble. His deep-set eyes were looking up to the sky, and though Atemu couldn't understand what he said, he couldn't help but notice the sadness in his voice.

"_Il ne reste plus beaucoup de temps, Gabriel._"

Atemu paused and hovered, he didn't want to interrupt what seemed like a serious talk. It even took him a moment to realise who Gabriel was, and the knowledge that this man didn't call Yuugi by his adopted name sat oddly with him. He saw Yuugi frown and tilt his head. There was a pause as he scrutinised the other man with obvious concern.

"_Ça prend du temps. Qu'est-ce qu'il a dit?_"

Whatever the question was, the old man shook his head and lowered his gaze. In the process he caught sight of Atemu lingering down the path. After a moment of staring, a heavy shadow was suddenly lifted from his face as his eyes lit with comprehension, a soft smile lifted his lips.

"_Ah, être amoureux._"

"_Quoi?_" Yuugi asked in obvious confusion.

"_Regardez._"

Yuugi blinked and followed the man's gaze. His large eyes fell upon Atemu and his serious expression immediately melted into joy. Lifting his arm he waved energetically, "Até, you found me!"

Returning Yuugi's excited greeting with a smile of his own, Atemu walked up to them, trying not to notice the way the old man's gaze followed him. There was something melancholy in his expression, something Atemu couldn't quite look at.

"How long have you been stood there?"

Atemu shrugged, "Not long. It's not like I can eavesdrop, anyway."

Yuugi laughed and, reaching out, gripped Atemu's arm and pulled him closer. Atemu blinked in confusion as he was directed to face the old man.

Yuugi spread his palm, "Marlet. Atemu. This is the photographer I was telling you about, Little Rose."

"I could guess," Atemu replied, extending his hand in a self-conscious gesture, "It's nice to meet you."

Marlet shook his hand with a nod and a thickly accented, "A pleasure. You will excuse my Englesh, eet is not so good."

"Oh, no, no its fine."

Withdrawing his hand, Marlet turned to Yuugi and spoke briskly, "_Je t'appellerai demain matin._"

To which Yuugi nodded solemnly.

Atemu waved awkwardly when the old man bid him goodbye in a thick accent, before he turned and swept down the pathway towards the main road. He was a dramatic figure; long, dark grey coat tails sweeping behind him in the wind, tall creaking elms flanking his assent up the gravel path. Lowering his hand back to curl within his jeans pocket, it took Atemu a moment to remember what had originally bothered him.

Atemu looked at Yuugi quizzically, "He calls you Gabriel?"

"Evidently."

"But I thought everyone called you Yuugi?"

Yuugi graced him with an unfathomable little smile, "Not everyone."

The spring day was beautiful if windy, the sun warm in the clear sky. The light filtered through the new leaves, some still furled up in their tiny cocoons, the new ones providing a fresh green shade, unlike any other time of the year when the light shone through them. The wind made them rustle so the sound merged with the sounds of people and traffic.

He glanced over at Yuugi, who was still watching Marlet in the distance. He seemed deep in thought, his eyes distant, a deep, dark purple. The wind running its invisible fingers through his hair, he almost looked like a model for one of his own photos. Atemu shuffled uneasily, quite unable to look away. The light was catching his outline, made all the more stark by the shifting shadows of the trees around them, and suddenly they were back in that studio, and Yuugi was glowing and just the most gorgeous thing Atemu had ever seen.

"Até, are you alright?"

Atemu jumped slightly, suddenly aware Yuugi hadn't been so lost in thought as he'd seemed. He realised he'd been shifting his weight restlessly from foot to foot and quickly forced himself to stand very still. Yuugi turned around fully to face him, "Até?"

"I'm fine."

"No, there is something on your mind."

He shrugged, "It's nothing really."

"It seems to me to be very much something."

Atemu realised this was probably his moment. There was a giant window being opened for him, which couldn't have been more obvious if someone had stuck a giant neon sign flashing 'opportunity' above it. Yuugi was looking at him with those large eyes, encouraging and patient again. Ready to listen. _Wanting_ to listen. Atemu remembered his last attempt at confessing and let out a short, quiet laugh, "Déjà vu."

Yuugi tilted his head, questioning.

Atemu took a deep breath, his heart was hammering, "Yuugi, there's something I sort of, may have, come here to… to tell you. But you may, I mean, I don't know how you'll react."

"I can promise you that none of my reactions to you will be negative, Até."

"Right," Atemu nodded and swallowed, decided to plunge in, "Yuugi I want to tell you that I… I find your… your company to be very, um, pleasant."

Yuugi's lips curled into an enigmatic smile, "I am so glad you think so."

"And I," he hurried to keep going, if he stopped he didn't know what would happen, "I think I should probably… probably tell you that, I mean after last night and everything, and after what you said and all… You did mean it, right?"

Yuugi's eyes were warm and patient, sparkling with what was probably mischief, "What did I mean, my Little Rose? What did I say?"

Atemu, flustered, frustrated, couldn't help but say, "You are being purposefully unhelpful."

Yuugi sighed, raised his fingers, touched Atemu's cheek lightly, it sent tingles throughout his body. Atemu stared at him; Yuugi moved the touch near his ear, where his jaw started, "Atemu," the use of his full name, for once, startled him, "please. Say it."

"What?"

"Say it, Atemu. Translate it. _Je t'aime._"

There was very little breath in his lungs, "I love you."

He heard Yuugi's intake of breath, "And do you?"

"Yes," even though they both already knew the answer, "I do."

Everything in Yuugi's body seemed to relax, his eyes slipped closed for a long moment. When he opened them, they reminded Atemu of dark water, they were such a liquid colour.

"You are extraordinarily hard work, Little Rose."

Atemu blinked, "Um, thanks?"

Yuugi laughed, "You are welcome. It is a strangely endearing trait."

A smile forcing its way onto his face, Atemu asked, "You knew, didn't you? For how long?"

"You are not so hard to read, really, not to me at least. As for your other question, I," Yuugi suddenly looked sheepish, "Até, I have something to confess."

Atemu gave him a slightly nervous, questioning look, "Yes?"

"That night in my old studio. Before I left. I knew what you were trying to say."

Atemu was struck silent for a moment, "…You? But I barely knew myself!"

Yuugi smiled affectionately, "You did, you just hadn't found the words yet. Ah, Little Rose, I have wanted you all this time. Every moment I have burned for you, awake or dreaming. You were so hard to resist, in your clueless-ness. I recognised you the day I found you under that blossom tree, I knew you before I even knew your name."

Atemu's mouth was a little dry, his skin warm and tingling where Yuugi touched him. His mind glossed over most of Yuugi's statement for his own sanity, filing it away in his mind for a quiet moment where he could react accordingly, "Then why didn't you say anything?"

Yuugi lowered his eyes at the accusation, "Atemu, you know yourself as well as I do, you would not have reacted well to me."

"I would have reacted with what I felt!"

"Exactly, Atemu, exactly," Yuugi brushed a tender hand over Atemu's cheek to play with the rich strands of hair, Atemu closed his eyes briefly at the sensation as Yuugi spoke again, "You were still fighting with yourself. You would have reacted badly, I think, with fear if not with disgust. This needed to be your decision, no matter how much I wanted it. You needed to come to me, Até, so that you could accept it, and in doing so accept yourself. If I had simply seduced you, what state would we be in now? What accusations you would throw at me, what hate? We are on your terms now, and we are comfortable, yes?"

Yuugi's eyes were so imploring, so gentle and loving, that Atemu couldn't contradict him. Besides, he was right, most likely. He felt happy, almost peaceful now, and not like he'd been forced or seduced. Though perhaps Yuugi had seduced him, if not in the conventional way. He shook his head hopelessly and smiled.

Yuugi misinterpreted the action and panicked slightly, thinking Atemu still did not believe him. He hurried to find more words that could explain his thinking, his actions.

And Atemu, there, then, right in public view of the streets of Paris, did the most impulsive thing he could ever remember doing. He pressed a thumb over Yuugi's moving lips, halting the in-depth explanation. And smiled.

"Yuugi, shut up. Kiss me."

There was a tiny pause, Yuugi's eyes widened comically as the words sunk in, before they darkened, filled with adoration. He smiled like the sun had just risen in his world. His hand lifted to curl around Atemu's, pulling it away from his face and pressing it to his shoulder, his other hand moved to cup Atemu's cheek and with that same inexplicable force that seemed to drive everything he did, drew them together.

The kiss was gentle and sweet, and nothing like Atemu imagined when he had fantasised in the guilty dark of night, when his desires had filled him with a sort of self-disgust. Yuugi did not involve their teeth or tongues, only coaxed their lips together, into a soft dance of brushing and gentle tugs. It was a kiss to make his heart swell and his breath catch, a kiss that conveyed something raw and poignant. Yuugi was treating him like he was something sacred, like he was glass, and it made him shiver when the kiss broke.

"Yu – " was all he managed to get out, confused but breathlessly happy.

Yuugi smiled, "I can be patient, when I need to be."

But for once, Atemu was feeling anything but patient, and leant forward to kiss that smile still etched so beautifully on the other's face. He moved his arms so that he could press his hands more firmly on Yuugi's back, leant up a little to deepen the kiss. He was inexperienced and a little awkward, but Yuugi held him tighter and just kissed him until he forgot about that and instead realised that Yuugi was his now. He had him.

And Atemu could have thrown all his 'A's and first class results down the drain, because, really, he'd never felt so accomplished.

_fin_

* * *

**AN: **Don't fear! I am planning a short little epilogue to tidy a couple of things up. A fluffy one I dare say.

By the way, I don't know what to do with one of the middle scenes, the one in the airport. My beta had trouble with it, but then insisted it was probably just her, so for the moment its being left as it is. However if it _is_ confusing or bad, tell me and I'll go back and figure out how to fix it.

I am aware that most people don't read profiles so: In other news, I finally got off my arse and made myself a livejournal account! I am auster_stri there, and am currently a little lonely, so feel free to visit! (I have put a direct link up on my profile) I have no idea what I'm doing there, do you just go around randomly friending people you want to be friends with or is that rude? *is paranoid*. Currently there isn't much there, but there will be soon! Also, I got something very awesome done! I got a commission done for this fic, since I love them so much. I can't put the link up right now, but I'll put them up on my new-ish LJ as soon as I figure out how to do it!

Translations

_La Ville de l'Amour_ - The City of Love

_Désolé, je suis vraiment désolé _- Sorry, I'm really sorry.

_Je t'aime_ - I love you

_Il ne reste plus beaucoup de temps, Gabriel._ - Time is running out, Gabriel

_Ça prend du temps. Qu'est-ce qu'il a dit?_ - It takes a long time. What did he say?

_Ah, être amoureux_ - Ah, to be in love

_Quoi?_ - What?

_Regardez_ - Look (as in 'look over there')

_Je t'appellerai demain matin_ - I'll ring you tomorrow morning

Ending a letter to a family member or close person – _Affectueusement_ – fondly, affectionately, lovingly.


	4. Epilogue: Dix Ans Plus Tard

**AN:** Hey, everyone! Welcome to the final instalment of this little baby of mine! I love these two.

I'm not too confident with my French in the epilogue title (just below). I'm _trying_ to say 'Ten Years Later', but finding out the correct format for that all on my lonesome proved a pain. I was going to say 'Dix Ans Après', but I'm pretty sure that translates as 'Ten Years After', which sounds silly to me, so I went with the other one. However, if I'm wrong (and I often am), do not hesitate to correct me.

**Zoom-Lens**

**AKA 'Aperture'**

Epilogue

_Dix Ans Plus Tard_

The weekly food shop was always somewhat of an ordeal. An exasperating, long-winded, unnecessary ordeal that, against every logical cell in his body, Atemu often enjoyed. He had no reasonable explanation for this enjoyment, but it probably had something to do with his fiancé. In fact, the entire issue of the ordeal in and of itself was entirely the result of his fiancé.

Case in point was currently trying to fill the trolley without Atemu noticing.

"Yuugi."

Falling still, Yuugi turned those huge eyes toward him and gave him the kicked puppy look: a Yuugi patented creation that even now sometimes still managed to turn him into a puddle of eager-to-please goo. Atemu stood his ground this time.

"What is that?"

"Vital nutritional food substances."

"It looks like an armful of chocolate to me."

"And pastries!"

Atemu sighed and didn't bother to resist the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Alright, alright, put them in."

Yuugi grinned, dropped the items into the trolley, pecked Atemu on the cheek, and whisked off down the next isle. Atemu waited until he was gone to begin surreptitiously placing half the unneeded sweet stuffs on the near by shelf. They stuck out against the soup tins, so he pushed them back a little and moved on quickly. Yuugi would probably only remember about half the contents anyway. Gathering useful items along the way, he found Yuugi again by the deli section. He was lingering over a selection of sweetmeats laid out on a platter for samples.

Atemu smiled, wheeled the trolley behind him, slipped his arm around the other's waist, and muttered, "Hey."

Yuugi's neck was warm on his lips; Yuugi squirmed under the brief kiss and made a valiant attempt not to laugh at the ticklish sensation.

"My, Até, how daring of you."

"I have my moments."

Yuugi leant into him, intimate and familiar, "What about this one? You know your Mother's tastes better than I." He lifted a sample of the meat to Atemu's lips; he took it and chewed for a moment.

"It's good, I'm pretty sure she'd like it. What's it for, anyway?"

"I was thinking of making a nice breakfast. A cold one before you panic," Yuugi grinned, cutting in as Atemu opened his mouth, "so no fires this time. "

He relaxed, "Thank God, I've never known anyone to burn milk so successfully. It was part of the pan by the time you'd finished."

Yuugi pouted and elbowed him in the stomach playfully, "That was all a part of my artistic plan. I needed examples of everyday mistakes for the last part of my gallery."

Atemu coughed, "Of course. Everyday."

"I will let that one slip," he tilted his head questioningly, "She likes continental breakfast?"

Atemu nodded, "One of her favourites," he squeezed the other's waist, "Yuugi, you don't need to try so hard, she's only coming for a weekend."

Those large eyes turned to meet his, "But I want her to like me."

"She does like you."

Yuugi pouted, "Begrudgingly."

Pressing another kiss to Yuugi's ear this time, Atemu said, "That's the only way she's ever liked anything." Yuugi's laugh warmed him, "Get it then, it'll go down well I'm sure."

Yuugi grinned, "You get it."

"Why me?"

"Because I want to hear you."

He gave Yuugi a sidelong look, "My accent is terrible."

"I know. It's cute."

"You are just bursting with encouragement," he sighed, but let go of Yuugi's waist and leant forward to get the attending woman's attention. Resolutely ignoring Yuugi's rapt attention and pleased grin, Atemu had to wonder how many more sudden social situations Yuugi was going to throw at him in an attempt to improve his confidence with the language. He managed just fine. He had to; otherwise he'd never cope at work, where most of his colleagues had only limited smatterings of English. He was getting good at colloquial French too, so managing every day life was getting easier and easier.

Except for that time with the angry woman on the bike. Atemu still swore she had been yelling about him putting cheese on her wheels.

* * *

Yuugi fell asleep during the car ride home. He usually did fall asleep in the car; the rhythm of its movements was a lullaby to his perpetual enthusiasm. And he hated driving. Part of the reason why Atemu owned the car was so Yuugi could continue his love affair with his Vespa.

Pulling into the drive, he turned to his sleeping lover. Yuugi's head had shifted during the journey, so that it was in danger of falling off the headrest, his mouth open slightly, his breathing calm and deep. Atemu was almost reluctant to wake him.

Almost.

"Nn? Quo – Oof!" Yuugi jumped out of his sleep, glaring blearily at the heavy shopping bag in his lap, then up at a smirking Atemu, "You're mean."

"Well shaking you didn't work," stood at Yuugi's now open car door, Atemu gestured toward the house, "And I'm not doing all the work myself."

Grumbling, Yuugi all but fell out of the car to grasp at the full shopping bags as Atemu locked the car. Their house was a beautiful little two-story building about an hours drive from the centre of Paris, Yuugi had only lived in the old French town house for two years while he worked with Marlet and Atemu finished his degree and Masters. After that he had moved back to England, where they had gotten an apartment together, Yuugi mercifully helping to give his lover a financial foothold while he searched for his first real job in forensics. They had moved to France a couple of years ago now, after Atemu had been dragged around the world on a massive freelance project of Yuugi's.

Atemu smiled, although he had loved those exciting first years of the relationship, all the travelling and long-distance had been exhausting. They were just lucky Yuugi had never been short of cash, or they would have seen each other even less. Sometimes he still rolled over in bed first thing in the morning and felt that little thrill of blissful excitement at seeing Yuugi there beside him.

Yuugi managed to work the key in the lock with his arms full of food bags, and wedged open the house door with his shoulder. Atemu followed behind and, with his arms equally full, simply kicked it shut after him. From a warm patch of sunlight in the living room, their black cat glared at them with imperious displeasure.

Yuugi laughed, "Oh poor Yami, did we disturb his highness's sleep?"

Yuugi had, of course, named the cat. Yami watched him a moment longer, yawned, then simply curled around with his back to them. Pouting, Yuugi continued into the kitchen, "I bet he'll still be expecting to use me as a heat blanket tonight. Honestly, why do we have a cat again?"

"Because you love me."

"Hmph. I prefer dogs."

Atemu dumped the bags on the counter, "You know we could get a dog if you want?"

"Yeah, Yami would just love having a puppy in the house," Yuugi laughed, left his bags on the floor, and slunk up to his lover. He hooked his thumbs into Atemu's jeans pockets and pulled him in for a kiss. Melting into the action Atemu quickly turned the light kiss into something deeper, tongues touching, swirling, loving Yuugi's little moan. His backside suddenly met the countertop's edge, Yuugi's hands tugging at his shirt, finding their way under the fabric to the soft skin beneath. Atemu sighed, pushing his hands into the back pockets of Yuugi's jeans and squeezing. Breaking the kiss, Yuugi looked at Atemu through half-lidded eyes, "Your mother is coming next week."

Atemu cocked an eyebrow, "Do you often think about my mum in situations like this?"

Yuugi laughed, "Heaven forbid. No," he rolled his hips into his lover's, "my thoughts were more along the lines of you. And how little I'm likely to get of you."

"Ah," he ducked his head, kissed along Yuugi's jaw, his soft white neck, "You know how awkward it would be. She only reluctantly accepts this as it is."

"I know," Yuugi sighed, tilted his head back to give Atemu more room to kiss, "I was just thinking of a solution."

"No early morning shower sex."

"Damn," Yuugi pouted, "Not even if she's still asleep?"

"No."

"But we have the en-suite."

Atemu chuckled at Yuugi's whining, "Its only a long weekend, she'll be gone before you know it. Then we can act like rabbits."

"I like the sound of that," Yuugi shivered when Atemu nipped at the skin of his collarbone, clearly not planning on stopping there, "What about the shopping?"

"The shopping can wait. I can't."

Yuugi hummed, his hands began to move again under Atemu's shirt, the flesh heating up under his touches. "Good, because I wasn't planning on waiting either."

That confession in the park, ten years ago next month, had been a turning point in his life that Atemu could never have predicted. Ten years of Yuugi's company, of his love, of sharing his life with him had changed everything. He was confident now, and not just successful, he had seen the world, gained the acceptance of his parents, made a reputable niche for himself in his field of work. Turbulent as their relationship had sometimes been, Yuugi had always stood as his rock, and Atemu never doubted his choice of partner. Now they were getting married in a few months, and he still didn't feel the need to look back and wonder 'what if?'

If it wasn't Yuugi, it wasn't anyone.

Yuugi smiled at Atemu when he lifted his head from his lover's neck, his eyes content, loving, filled with his eternal electric energy, "What is it?"

Atemu kissed him, "Nothing. Now off with these clothes already."

_fin_

_By Auster: Dated 17th March 2010  
_

* * *

**AN**: Sorry guys, no lemon! Or lime either. Sad I know. Well maybe one day I'll come back to these two and shove something up on my lj. I do love them so.

Thanks for all your reviews and love guys! And for sticking with this. It means a lot! Love you all! See you hopefully soon!

**Review Please!**


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